Margot Robbie can act … so what? What is the point of being acted at for over three hours? Let us make a rule: if a film is two-and-a-half hours long, it has to have a point, like an undeniable award-winning truth you’ve never heard before … and if a film is three hours or longer, it better be the best thing I’ve ever seen to date. Period.
It needs to be Godfather good. It needs to be Lord of the Rings good.
Babylon was Joe Dirt good…and that’s being kind.
In Babylon, writer/director Damien Chazelle reminded us again and again that he won a directing Oscar for La la Land … and then used over three hours of film to show us why he didn’t deserve it. Seriously, I lost count at how many times the film recalled the La La Land theme. This ain’t Star Wars, mutherf***er; you don’t just get to play the song from the last good film you made and pass it off as soundtrack.
And, of course, I suppose this was part of the point, for Babylon is yet another Hollywood look at Hollywood. Yawn. Maybe Chazelle thought he could get away with re-runs. Maybe he thought he was making art. Maybe he thought we wouldn’t notice how pointless this film is. Whatever ran through Damien Chazelle’s mind, Babylon is a slog. A very long slog. Listed as a comedy-drama, this cherry-picked view of Hollywood’s decadence and idiocy between the years 1926 and 1952 represents a fun time for exactly nobody. This film is a “comedy?” I didn’t laugh in the last two hours. Literally. Did not laugh one single time. Never came close, in fact. Two hours is a very long time not to laugh during a comedy.
The film focuses on three people, an established Hollywood star (Brad Pitt), a wannabe (Robbie), and a “just happy to be here” immigrant (Diego Calva), placing all of them at the start of the film like chess pieces at some sort of coked-up extravagant Hollywood Bacchanalian orgy. In the middle of the desert at a Kinescope-owed mansion is a wild scene of music, dancing, drinking, cavorting, snorting, gripping, screwing, slapping, and sneaking. Wanna see an elephant crap on a guy? Check. Wanna see a midget ride an erect penis pogo stick? Check. Wanna see nudity from every third person? Check.
Now here’s the $1,000,000 question: do you genuinely want to see a scene that’s 35 minutes long and not fun? How do you make a Bacchanalian orgy without fun? I dunno, but somehow Damien Chazelle managed. During the party, starlet wannabe and party crasher Nellie LaRoy (Robbie) gets her big break when a producer randomly ID’s her as a replacement for a party victim. Meanwhile, Manny Torres (Calva) also gets his big break when asked to escort Hollywood legend Jack Concord (Pitt) home. The following morning, all three show up for work in the badlands, where Hollywood silents are made daily. Using a Madonna mentality in a Betty Boop world, LaRoy immediately becomes a hit. Woo. We’re off and running.
And then … sound. *GASP*
There’s already been a great film about the conversion of Hollywood from silent to sound. It was called Singin’ in the Rain. And in case you missed it, a lot of Singin’ in the Rain will be shown in this film, which is not a great film about the conversion of Hollywood from silent to sound. In fact, most of this film is tiresome. Brad Pitt grabs a lot of screen time, but nobody really gives him anything to do until past the two hour mark. Diego Calva plays a guy who just wants to be part of the show to somebody who becomes a tool of the show – and yet I can’t help thinking about how ironically hungry this relatively-unknown actor might have been for this plum role.
Oh, but the film belongs to Margot Robbie as the actress who insists she’s a star long before it happens. It’s very possible these things were likelier in the early days of Hollywood. And Robbie runs the gamut here from mouthy talented unknown to mouthy talented known. I don’t want to detract from Robbie; she is best thing about the film and her acting range is on full display … for three full hours. Look, Damien, we KNOW what Margot Robbie can do; what you haven’t shown us is why we should care.
Lest I forget, there was the part halfway through when Damien Chazelle suddenly remembered black people existed. “Well, gosh, I better write a part for one then.” So write he did and a character was born, *poof* You could edit out the entire part without losing a single a single strand for script integrity, of course, but that’s beside the point. Make trumpeter Sidney Palmer (Jovan Adepo) don blackface
because he’s not black enough for Southern audiences; that will score some points, right? Sure, if not for the fact that trumpeter Sidney Palmer was a complete afterthought to this film.
Babylon is the kind of film that turns you off film. It’s long, long, long, self-important, directionless, and kinda just gets worse as it goes on. I mean, we all see it coming – what, you mean the all-night elephant cocaine orgy was a bad thing?! And yet, in between, there are scenes that will make you cringe something awful. Like the medieval dungeon horror straight out of another film … or how about the moment where Robbie gets bitten by a snake and everybody runs around screaming? What does that describe in real life? If you saw a coked-up starlet wrestling a poisonous snake and get bitten, what your reaction be? I’m pretty sure whatever it is, it wouldn’t be screaming, “AAAAAHHHHHH!!!” and running blindly into the night. I think this was supposed to be humor, but I couldn’t tell because neither I nor a single person in my screening found this moment even remotely funny.
Babylon is a thematic rehash of Hollywood’s decadence and an absolute bore. It would have been bloated at 90 minutes and lasted over twice as long. I’ve seen some critics love this film. Dudes, you are wildly out-of-touch and desperately need to find out what human people consider entertainment. I see too many films to call Babylon the worst of the year, but it deserves being in the conversation. Gentlemen, lady, your Golden Turkey awaits.
It is the Hollywood of yesteryear
A period that many choose to endear
But Chazelle said “NO WAY!
I’m going to show the gray
And make a film that audiences will greatly fear”
Rated R, 189 Minutes
Director: Damien Chazelle
Writer: Damien Chazelle
Genre: Consumed by the weight of its own ego
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: You gotta really, really, really be into Margot Robbie
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: People with taste
